


Take My Hand (Wreck My Plans)

by another_lonely_writer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Ballroom Dancing, Crushes, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Galas, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Inspired by Taylor Swift song, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Not a Songfic tho, POV Draco Malfoy, Parties, Pining, Willow - Freeform, draco is just trying to follow proper etiquette, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28277490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_lonely_writer/pseuds/another_lonely_writer
Summary: When the music finally comes to a close, they hurriedly step away from each other. Draco offers a nod of his head in lieu of the traditional bow. She tilts her head and scoffs instead of returning the curtsy. Granger promptly spins on her heel and nearly stomps away from him.Draco can’t help the smile that creeps on to  his face; she may be wearing an elegant dress tonight but she was still a spitfire Gryffindor underneath all the makeup...Five times Draco bowed + One time Hermione curtseyed back
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 15
Kudos: 107





	Take My Hand (Wreck My Plans)

**_life was a willow and it bent right to her wind_ **

**1**

Draco Malfoy was no stranger to ballrooms. His mother had ensured he was well versed in most traditional dances, he wasn’t particularly fond of dancing however. It was simply a byproduct of his upbringing, a consequence of his family’s position. He was grateful for the lessons he had found tedious and frightfully dull as they had come in handy over the years as he was paraded through galas and parties. He had nearly mastered the art of social niceties and charms.

The Yule ball was no exception, Draco laughed at all the right times and charmed his peers. He sought connections with the students from the visiting schools. He flattered the girls and spun them around the dance floor with a wink and a grin. Yes, it was safe to say Draco Malfoy knew how to work a room. 

The ball has started to wind down but is far from over; couples have started sneaking off for intimate rendez-vous and groups of friends laugh boisterously as they converse. Hogwarts seems lighter tonight, the animosities drawn with harsh lines have seemed to have faded for the time being. The strict formality at the start of the night has given way to a more casual atmosphere. It’s a magic of its own kind, he supposes.

“Draco,” the unmistakable drawl of Professor Snape calls to him. He glances up and sees the man gesture at him to join him. Snape is standing with a stout rotund man with a rather large moustache, Draco hadn't the faintest clue who he might be. As Draco walks up to the group, he sees Granger making her way towards them led by McGonagall. 

“These are our most promising students Aleksi!” McGonagall says, pointing to him and Granger. He shifts his weight. “Yes, they are both on their way to becoming Head Students in their final year,” Snape comments, “Miss. Granger and Mr. Malfoy will both move on to do impressive things, I’m sure.” 

Granger looks mildly surprised, and honestly he is as well. This all was certainly news to him- he had hoped of course but still. McGonagall turns towards them, “Mr. Humbolten works for the Department of International Cooperation in the Ministry.” She levels them both with a pointed look. This was an important man- an influential man and Draco was already in his element. He rearranges his face into a charming smile and jumps in, “Nice to make your acquaintance, Sir. Draco Malfoy, I believe you must already be acquainted with my father…” he trails off raising an eyebrow in question.

“Malfoy! Lucius’s son well of course!” Aleksi's full bellied laugh rings. The DIC was notoriously difficult to get into but his father’s words echo in his head, 

_It’s all about knowing the right people and having the right information, Draco._

So Draco grins at the loud man and offers a chuckle of his own, because contrary to popular opinion, he has learned that flattery can get you nearly everywhere.

Granger is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, “Mr. Humbolten Sir, an honor to meet you!” She gushes. “I’ve read your articles on the importance of improving the current restriction on exotic potion ingredients, it was fascinating!” How dreadfully dull, of course she has read it. He only just manages to hold in his scoff. 

Aleksi turns toward her, “Is that so young lady?” an incredulous look on his face. 

“The bit about enforcing stricter laws on doxy poison was enlightening!” Granger gushes. 

“My, my beauty and brain with you Miss. Granger! How lovely!” Draco rolls his eyes.

“The last formal dance of the night!” Flitwick announces to the room and students rush to take places and find partners. Everyone is trying to make the night last just a little bit longer.

Snape turns to hopefully dismiss them but Aleksi interrupts, “Why don’t you two rush along then? The best students at Hogwarts must share at least one dance together!” Snape looks positively alarmed. 

“I'm sure the children have had a tiring night--” McGonagall is trying to save them it seems she has a heart after all

“Nonsense! They would make a striking pair on the dance floor.” Aleksi insists, looking between him and Granger. This man must be drunk. There is no other explanation. As much as he wanted to recoil and make a scene, now was not the time. It was best to make this as quick and painless as possible. So, with a quirk of his eyebrow he stepped forward and offered her a hand.

With a delicate sniff and a wary look, she shakily raises her hand to meet his- their hands just barely brushing and they stalk toward the crowd. She wants to be here as much as he does- so that is to say absolutely not at all.

They take their positions, refusing to make eye contact and Draco grits his teeth, he can already hear the rumors and sneers. As the music starts up, he lets his body fall prey to muscle memory- allowing his body to steer his way through this awkward encounter. 

He is surprised when Granger does a decent job of keeping up- matching him step for step without faltering. He glances down at her and it hits him suddenly.

The realization is startling, as they stiffly move through the traditional waltz, Hermione Granger is rather pretty. 

Her face is flushed from dancing throughout the night, Draco has seen her twirling around with Krum, laughing and giggling. She almost seems soft. That’s a word he would never associate with the stubborn know-it-all. It’s bizarre; he can hardly reconcile the unruly haired bookworm with the girl in front of him. Her eyes are fixed pointedly on something behind him, refusing to make eye contact. Her hair is different tonight too- smoother somehow, contained. Draco isn’t sure he likes it, what’s Hermione Granger if not a frizzy nest of untamed curls? He lets out a puff of air in amusement.

Her eyes snap up to him, a familiar inquisitive look gracing her features; _What's so funny?_ Her eyes seem to ask. Draco shakes his head in reply. They dance in silence, gliding and twirling to the rhythm. Sharp, clean, elegant and efficient. He is loath to admit, she is an excellent partner. 

When the music finally comes to a close, they hurriedly step away from each other. Draco offers a nod of his head in lieu of the traditional bow. She tilts her head and scoffs instead of returning the curtsey. Granger promptly spins on her heel and nearly stomps away from him.

Draco can’t help the smile that creeps on to his face; she may be wearing an elegant dress tonight but she was still a spitfire Gryffindor underneath all the makeup.

* * *

**2**

Draco is only a tad drunk- just something to help take the edge off. He certainly isn’t the only one being rather… _indulgent_ today. Alcohol is an efficient way to numb himself on this dreadful day. May 2nd. The anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

It’s been two years since that awful day. It’s been two years filled with trials and sneers and double takes. It has been two years filled with cursing his family name. It’s been two years since his father was killed in a cell in Azkaban. It has been two years spent consoling his grieving mother.

It has been two years of painstaking recovery and donations and charity. It’s been two years of forgiveness and apologies. It’s been two years since he joined the Ministry ranks. It has been two years of trying to redeem the Malfoy name.

In an effort to do the same, he had made significant donations to set up this ‘Remembrance Day’ or whatever the hell they were calling it. Merlin, it might have been called Harry Potter Day- he really could care less. He really didn’t want to be here but they had forced him to attend; spewing nonsense about how he had been the biggest sponsor and it was mandatory. No one wanted to see a Malfoy today, he was a walking reminder of the past bathed in bloodshed. Draco was practically the poster boy of making all the wrong decisions. The only reason for tolerance was perhaps the surprising support of Harry Potter himself. 

Potter had become a steadfast supporter of Narcissa Malfoy, claiming he owed her his life. Mother resolutely reminded him that the debt had already been paid a hundred times over but the plea fell on silent ears. The steadfast and loyal Gryffindor wormed his way into the Malfoy household. Draco and Harry had managed to strike up a sort of friendship over the months but both would deny it till their very last breath.

He tugs at the knot of his tie, fiddling with it. It won’t help. He skulks in the corner trying not to be seen as people circle and hover over the blessed Golden Trio. 

The evening is dreadfully dull and yet, Draco does his best to play his roles. He offers half hearted smiles and nods as needed but mostly keeps to himself. Being front and center isn’t half as rewarding as it used to be given that most conversations are layered with undertones of hostility.

He was just figuring out the excuses to make to escape when he sees Rita stomping up to him, a reluctant Granger following behind her. She’s got a slight pained expression on her face- like she wants to be here about as much as he does.

“A picture for the prophet darling?” Rita croons. “It’ll be significant- golden girl and Malfoy heir! What do you say, dears? Won’t you dance for an old bird like me?”

He holds a hand outstretched towards her, she looks at it in confusion. “You heard the woman, a show of good faith, Granger?” He mocks.

She quickly realizes there’s no way out, with a grimace she places her hand atop his and they step up to the area cleared for dancing.

Draco must have had more to drink than he had originally thought because that’s the only excuse for the next words out of his mouth, “The dress suits you Granger.” The thing is, she _does_ look rather lovely. It’s an unwelcome realization. Hermione Granger is supposed to be boring and dull and practically matronly and yet, she looks exquisite tonight. The golden dress hugs curves Draco hadn’t even known she had and her hair is pinned up in that way girls do- where it’s all pinned up and falling down at the same time.

Her eyes widen as she falters. “Are you feeling alright there, Malfoy?” She questions bewildered. _Is the thought of him being nice truly so incomprehensible?_

Then again, he has never given her any reason to believe him capable of any niceties. He saw Granger occasionally in the Halls of the Ministry. Potter often brought her up in conversations but for the most part, Granger was a ghost. A living and breathing reminder of his mistakes. 

Most nights he could still hear her gasping sobs and piercing screams from _that day_ . Draco let’s his eyes drift down to her arm which has been artfully glamoured. _Mudblood._

“I’ve never been better.” He quips and twirls her around a few more times. He can practically feel all the eyes on them- they make a startling sight he supposes.

Lions and Snakes.

Muggle born and Pureblood

War Heroine and Death Eater.

Granger and Malfoy.

He sees flashes of the cameras, the headlines practically writing themselves at this point. She is quiet and her eyes shift, looking vaguely uncomfortable with the added attention. Draco was too far gone to care, his inebriated state creating its own peaceful state.

She seems determined to dance with him in silence and the thought startles him. Silence and Hermione Granger are not two terms which go hand in hand. His mind reminds him she is still as graceful as ever, following his lead with an elegance of a practiced danseur. 

“So Granger, how are things working with the new Werewolf Legislation? I admit it is sort of a lost cause…” He trails off. His words have the desired effect. Draco watches her as she comes to life in his arms. Her mouth sets in a familiar stubborn line, something he remembers from their youth. He zones out as she starts a furious lecture, animated and her eyes bright. Draco is reminded that Hermione Granger isn’t just a pretty witch, she is a rather smart and powerful one as well.

“Are you even listening?!” She exclaims and he is jolted out of his thoughts.

He smirks and she huffs in exasperation. The music dips and fades and she steps away. He bows slightly. She quickly glances around the room and leaves him standing in the middle of the floor.

He grins. The sun rises in the east; the sky is blue; and Hermione Granger is still as easy to rile up as he remembers. 

* * *

**3**

Another day, another Ministry function he couldn’t avoid. It was exactly the kind of thing his childhood had prepared him for- he would have to spend the night flattering old men and mingling and schmoozing. Usually Draco would send someone else in lieu of himself, but this one was rather important.

They needed the donations for funding a project; one of Granger’s crusades if he wasn’t mistaken. The Werewolf Legislation was approved and implemented in record time, he should’ve known better than to doubt her. 

That project was just the beginning, she had worked on house-elf rights, added amendments to outdated Veela laws, strengthened the regulations governing potion ingredient trade along with Merlin knows what. She was a force of nature.

Tonight, they were gathering funds for a Muggleborn integration program. It was rather ambitious but you wouldn’t catch him betting against her. Draco had simply known her for too long. Hermione Granger would get what she wanted.

Granger is in her element, talking animatedly to anyone and everyone. He knows that this project in particular is especially close to her heart, she had told him as much. They had often found each other’s company, having to work with the same people and answering to the same superiors. 

They made quite an efficient team, in his opinion. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t enchanted by the witch. Every moment he spent learning new things about her made him regret every cruel taunt he had hurled at her in their youth. _How could he have ever thought her beneath him? How could he ever think that she was less deserving?_

Granger is in green tonight, emerald green- the Slytherin sort. The dress itself is a bit more risque, something he would never expect out of her. The satin off the shoulder number certainly suits her. What truly catches his eye however, is the fact is that her arms aren’t covered tonight.

She usually takes care to wear longer sleeves and cloaks, Draco notices this because he does the same. They’ve both got scars. Her scars were a symbol of her strength; his were a reminder of his cowardice. He wonders how many of them she has. He wonders if she would ever show them to him.

The party is of the standard sort and he plays his part as expected. He doesn’t bother bringing a date. Draco doesn’t see the point in having to drag someone else with him, it’s just another role he would have to play. It’s another mask he would have to put on. The task is tedious, but working a crowd is something he does well and so he diligently talks to all possible sponsors and feigns undivided interest.

When at last Draco manages a moment of peace, he feels someone tap his shoulder and he swivels around, fighting the instinct to pull out his wand. All these years later and Draco still couldn’t outrun his past, consequences of being drafted into war. He certainly isn’t the only one still reeling from it’s effects.

To his surprise it’s Granger. She looks rather nervous, fidgeting with her bracelet.  
“Can I help you?” he drawls. She bites her lip, “Well you see Malfoy, that man over there--” She cocks her head to the side, gesturing to a leering man staring in their direction “-- he is rather pushy and well…” She looks down at the floor.

She doesn’t need to explain more. Draco knows all about those kinds of men, thinking that they are owed a pretty woman’s time and notice. Those slimy and vile creatures which are a pathetic excuse for a man.

“No need to elaborate Granger, I understand loud and clear.” He gently grabs her wrist and leads her to the dance floor, as far away from the git as he can. She looks relieved. “Thanks Malfoy, I really don’t know where Ron is… and Harry isn’t attending this and I just… Thank you.”

He nods in acknowledgement as he pulls her into position as a new song starts up and they sway together. “Funny how you always find yourself in my arms at these things” Draco says to break the silence.

“Unfortunate circumstances I assure you” Granger replies stiffly.

The music speeds up, and Draco arches a brow at her. “Think you can keep up?”

She gives him a roguish grin, “Try me, Malfoy.” seemingly more than confident in her dancing skills.

So he does; he leads her through complicated steps and tight twirls and she maneuvers through each perfectly. She moves with him as if she is reading his mind, they are in perfect sync. A perfect match.

“You know Granger, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just really enjoy dancing with me.” He comments cheekily. She puffs out a laugh, “Perhaps in your dreams!”

With music coming to a close, Draco tries to trip her up one last time. He pulls her close and tightens his hold on her waist. He tilts her backward into a dip, expecting her to falter. Instead, she gives into him and goes limp, balancing her weight on a single precarious heel. Her arms trail up his frame and around his neck. 

They both freeze, realizing their unintentional intimate proximity. Both of them are breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath after the rigorous minutes trying to one up each other.

He slowly puts her back on her feet, stepping away and giving her a full mocking bow, complete with a kiss to the back of her hand. She scoffs and rolls her eyes, her cheeks stained a lovely red. 

She starts to walk away from him, probably on her way to find The Weasel.

“Granger?” His voice causing her to stop and look back at him.

“Green is definitely your color.” He says. She looks away, and presses her lips together like she’s fighting a smile. 

“Thank you, Malfoy” She calls out.

He couldn’t help the way his heart did a little flutter as she sashayed away.

* * *

**4**

The dreaded day had finally arrived. He stands in front of the mirror adjusting his tie before he has to walk into the reception. 

Today Harry Potter and Ginerva Weasley stood in front of everyone and vowed themselves to each other forevermore. It was a beautiful ceremony, albeit rather quaint. He was surprised to have received an invitation but Potter had looked at him like he was mad for ever assuming otherwise. 

Granger and Weasley stood next to the happy couple as the wedding party, whispers followed them everywhere. After all, it was only a matter of time before they would follow; if the rumours were true, Weasley had already bought a ring.

Draco was okay with this. Honestly. He was happy for them… for her. That is what he had taken to telling himself everyday. Granger was friends with Draco now or so she had decided. It was a strange development, seeing her give him those smiles. He loved the way her eyes would crinkle up at the corners.

The reception was a lovely affair and Draco couldn’t stop looking at her, his eyes kept flitting to her without his permission. Tonight, she was wearing a midnight blue gown and her hair was cascading down her back. She had done something to it, because it kept sparkling as the light hit it. It looked like she had woven stars right into her hair.

The bride makes her way towards him, leaving Potter behind her with an affectionate look gracing his face. Harry was a public figure and everyone had an opinion on him, but one thing no one could deny was how much the bloke loved Red. Draco, who had fallen victim to multiple of his incessant drunken ramblings about the beauty of his girlfriend, could personally attest to the fact.

“Well?” She raises a questioning eye at him.

“Congratulations to both of you” he says ignoring her meddling voice.

“She looks really pretty, you know. It’s a shame my brother doesn’t know how to dance.” She nudges him. He takes a deep sip from his champagne glass.

“Look Weaselette—-“

“——not anymore, actually-“ she interrupts him.

“—Granger is with _your_ brother—“

“—Mrs. Potter now, thank you very much!”

“I don’t know why you keep pushing this!” He hisses.

She looks at him unimpressed. “Hermione is with my brother, I don’t see a ring on her finger yet do you?” He sighs but before he can explain she whips around and waves down Hermione.

Association with Potter came with the unavoidable presence of Weasleys. Draco had made his apologies and was eventually grudgingly accepted by the brood. However, within Ginny he had found a confidant. She had been surprisingly accepting of him and for that he was thankful. That being said, he wouldn’t give up a good opportunity to hex the vexing witch. He had never had any siblings or cousins; Ginny had enough for the both of them, but he rather thinks she is what it’s like to have a sister.

“Draco, I want to dance with my stupid youngest brother, keep Hermione company for me!” She levels him a pointed look and dashes off, shoving Hermione towards him.

He shifts his weight and drowns the rest of his glass. She is fidgeting awkwardly as well. _Draco was going to kill Red._ With a sheepish smile, he holds out a hand towards her. Merlin, she looks like a goddess tonight.

He places his other hand on her lower back to guide her towards the dancing pairs. He catches Ginny’s eyes who winks at him. 

The music starts up and they go through the motions. They’ve done this enough times before now. He clears his throat, “Blue suits you well, Granger.” The comment brings a smile to her face. Draco feels his heart race.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your compliments, _Draco''_ She emphasizes his name. That was a new development. _“Friends don’t use each other's last name!”_ she had exclaimed.

The first time she had used his given name, he had nearly dropped all the files in his hand. Draco was sure his name had never sounded so sweet. He was fascinated by the way it had rolled off her tongue...which had brought his attention back to her mouth and those lips and his mind wandered off into forbidden territory.

He had tried calling her Hermione, but old habits die hard. She would always be Granger to him.

“Well then you need to stop showing up to these events looking so beautiful.” he states solemnly. She laughs and swats his chest., “You’re all trouble, Draco Malfoy!” Funny she would say that, considering that she’s the one going around breaking all his walls; wrecking all his plans.

She’s chattering about something but Draco is distracted. Her vibrant aura is so much different than previous times he had shared a dance with her. She giggles as he pulls her through a series of spins. The more he learns about this brilliant witch, the less he knows himself. He is lost in her voice, her touch and her aura. Draco has always been weak in the face of power like hers.

The last notes of the waltz fade out and they stand there in the middle of the floor. She’s so close to him. She’s so small. Draco forgets that sometimes because her aura takes up and fills the whole room. She is so bold and so bright and yet, she is physically so tiny. It’s astounding, her head barely meets his shoulders. His eyes drift down to her lips and she is so _close._

“Oh don’t you make a pretty sight!” Ginny croons, making her way up toward them. _Oh yeah, he was definitely going to kill Red._ Granger blushes and steps away, letting her hands slide off where they were perched on his shoulders. It’s become something of a tradition between them now he thinks. He bows as the rules would have it, she giggles as she walks away.

That night he dreams of honey eyes and soft twinkling laughter and glittering stars glittering across the dark sky.

* * *

**5**

Pansy had decided it was finally time to reconnect with their traditions- at least the ones that made her happy, which meant the Parkinson Christmas Parties were back and were here to stay. Draco had grown up attending these parties and laughing around with his best mates.

Anyone who was someone of importance would be in attendance as was the norm. Yet, he was still surprised to see Granger standing around conversing with people and smiling. She was pulling political strings these days, well on her way to become the most important person in their society. She was quickly moving up the ranks of the Ministry. 

_“I want to make a difference, Draco.”_ She had told him after one day. Draco had no doubt that she would. He knew better than to bet against Granger.

She was in red tonight. The dress draped elegantly on her and all he could think about was how easily he could pull it _off_ of her. She was a bright raging fire and Merlin help him, Draco wanted to _burn_. 

It wasn’t the first time his thoughts had run ahead of him. These days it kept getting harder and harder to focus in her presence. She was golden and he was… whatever the opposite of that was. Granger was light, he shouldn’t even be thinking about her.

Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, he makes his way towards the witch who had wormed her way into his every waking thought. 

Hadn’t she always been there though? Even when he thought he hated her, she was the only witch he ever saw.

She turns around to greet someone else and he sucks in a breath looking away. Salazar help him, this is the worst sort of torture. Thin straps criss cross across her back leaving most of her skin artfully exposed. An irrational surge of jealousy fills him, he wonders what sod gets to be her date tonight-- it wasn’t Weasley.

The Prophet had been running articles for weeks now speculating upon the Granger-Weasley breakup. They whipped up fanatical stories ranging from infidelity all the way to secret elopements and consequent divorce. From what Draco had gathered, it had been a mutual parting of ways but you wouldn’t know that from the gossip rags. 

He saunters up to her, and she spins to him. 

“What is a pretty witch like you doing standing in a corner? Doesn’t your date know it’s a waste of that stunning dress.” He offers her a simpering smile.

She rolls her eyes but the apples of her cheek redden lightly.

She smiles up at him through her lashes, “Haven’t got a date; haven’t got a partner.” she says in a flippant tone. He blinks. That’s…surprising.

He gestures to himself, “I think I’m rather well suited.” He leans in closer.

“Is that so, Draco?” She teases.

“You’ve waltzed with me enough times by now Granger-don’t antagonize me ” He holds out a hand to her. She stares at the proffered hand with an arched brow. 

“Oh Draco, antagonizing you is nearly part of my job description ”

He grabs her hand and pulls her towards the dancing couples listening to her laugh, spinning her into place,

“Minx. You are all trouble, witch.” 

They glide and sway together to the strings playing and she is still as elegant as he remembers. He glances down to look at her and sees her already gazing up at him, a soft smile playing on her lips. 

The song eventually comes to a halt and Draco bows expecting her to scoff and scurry away. It’s practically tradition between them now. To his surprise she doesn’t pull away. She has a peculiar look on her face and points up. Draco follows her line of sight and sees a seemingly innocuous sprig of mistletoe above them. He sucks in a breath.

“Well let’s get it over with Malfoy” She steps closer to him, closer than they already were. He’s never noticed how warm her eyes were, he lets his gaze fall to her full lips. Draco wonders if they would be as soft as they looked. She looks up at him through her lashes expectantly, mischief making her eyes glitter.

With an aching slowness, he cups her jaw. _Is this okay?_ He silently asks her. He tilts her chin up and she lets her eyes flutter shut. Draco traces her full lip with the pad of his thumb leaning in closer, letting their noses brush. “Are you sure?” He murmurs. Draco’s heart is racing, how many times had he dreamed of this? She stands on her tiptoes in answer, steadying herself using his shoulders and presses her lips to his. Once. Twice.

Draco thinks they should’ve done this years ago.

Her hands clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer. Draco groans as he lets his hands wander into her hair- tangling his fingers like he’s always wanted to and holding her to him.

She is perfect; this is far better than he could’ve ever imagined.

He lets his tongue dip into her mouth, tasting her. She whimpers and he _knows_ that sound will haunt his dreams.

When he reluctantly pulls away she is breathing harshly, a wide grin on her face, “I think that ought to do it.” Her voice is playful and her eyes sparkle with delight. He puffs out a laugh, breathing heavily himself-trying to catch his breath. “I’m sure that was thoroughly sufficient” he drawls, allowing himself the indulgence of playing with the ends of her hair. She was still standing close, the palms of her hand resting on his chest looking up at him. He moves down and tip his forehead forward to meet hers, “Let me take you out on a proper date, Granger,” The words a desperate whisper against her mouth.

“Yes, please.” She murmurs back, pressing forward to capture his lips in hers one last time before she walks away, flushed and smiling. He runs a hand through his hair trying to fix it- Granger has made a right mess of it.

The corners of his mouth curl up; Granger has made a right mess of _him_. Morgana knows, wherever she strays, he would follow blindly.

* * *

**+1** ****

Draco knew he would do anything for Hermione Granger. Blaise and Theo gave him hell for it often, saying he was too whipped-but he didn’t particularly care. She was quite easily one of the best things in his life. Hermione Granger, the one person who should never forgive him for what he had done had accepted him into her life. She had accepted him, flaws and all. She had seen the very worst of him and decided to stay anyway.

So, frankly, Blaise and Theo could go suck it. Draco would give Hermione the whole damn world. Merlin help him, he’d find a way to give her all the stars if she asked him.

She was sensible however and never wanted the jewels he wanted to drape her in or the dresses he would have made. She never accepted gifts easily, much to Draco’s chagrin. 

To his everlasting surprise, she did however accept to take his name.

Hermione Granger Malfoy. Hermione Granger Malfoy. Hermione Granger Malfoy.

His _wife._

She was a vision today, absolutely exquisite. The memory of her walking up the aisle towards the gazebo- towards him was imprinted into his brain. She looked radiant as she pledged herself to him in front of their family and friends. Salazar, everyone there already knew he was hers. His hands were shaking and she soothed him, rubbing circles into the palm of his hand. The ceremony was perfect, the golden threads wrapping around their entwined hands as they said their vows. The rush was indescribable; It felt like the first time he had ever held a wand. It felt like the first time he had ever flown on a broom. It felt like the first time he caught a snitch. It felt like seeing Hogwarts for the first time. It felt warm.

It felt like magic.

His eyes were fixated on her as she talked to their guests. She was animated and enthusiastic and it was perfect. She stood in the crook of his arms leaning her weight on him. It never failed to surprise him how perfectly she fit there- like she was made for him.

He shakes the thought from his head- no he supposes, if anything he was made for her. He belonged to her. His ring on her finger was a symbol of _his_ devotion to her. 

She was his everything. 

He feels her lips press against his jaw and looks down to meet her gaze. 

“Hey.” The words are barely a whisper against his skin. Her hair has started to fall out of the intricate updo, the escaped curls dancing across her phase. 

“Hello.” He murmurs back, tucking the rebellious strands back behind her ear.

“You looked very far away just now Mr. Malfoy.” She wraps her arms around him, snuggling into his chest and his arms come up automatically to cradle her against him. He lets his eyes close and squeezes her close. Sometimes he wonders if this is all just a dream. 

“Just counting my lucky stars, Mrs. Malfoy” He mumbles into her hair. 

She huffs in protest, “That’s Granger-Malfoy, thank you very much!” 

Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy. His wife.

That’s his _wife_.

The sun is just starting to set on the Manor grounds and twinkling lights surround them everywhere. It looks like something straight out of a novel, the gardens are completely transformed tonight. Multiple couples have already made their way out on the dance floor. He smirks as he sees Pansy twirling around with Longbottom. He knows somewhere Theodore is probably flirting with Wood. Blaise is probably already chatting up some witch as he tries to find the courage to approach Luna. Happiness swells up in him, today he is surrounded by everyone he holds dear. As he scans the crowd, he sees his mother deep in conversation with his aunt- yet another thing Hermione gave him. 

Surrounding them, Draco can hear the jovial conversations of their friends and family. He can hear the laughs of the younger children running around followed by exasperated sighs. Draco can’t help the ache in his heart as he sees the young ones. Maybe one day he can convince Hermione to give him one of his own. He had never wanted children until he thought about having them with Hermione. The image of a little girl with striking pale curls and her mother’s nose makes his heart race- or perhaps they would have a boy that was all the good parts of them. 

They had talked about it before, he smiles thinking about it. _“I want little constellations of our own one day, Draco- just maybe not now.”_ Children or no children, Hermione was more than enough for him. He didn’t need anything more than everything she had already given him.

A familiar tune starts up and Draco is suddenly fourteen again. Wide eyed he pulls back to look at her, wondering if she recognizes it too. The starting notes of the song they had first danced to ring through the air, visions and memories of a beautiful girl twirling around the Great Hall dressed in blue swarm him. Her eyes sparkle giving him his answer.

How far they have come from those children, that boy seems a stranger to him now. He wonders how he could have overlooked the princess in his arms that day. How could he have been so blind? Their past was filled with animosity and hatred and yet standing with her, he felt so _loved_. He doesn’t think he would change a single second of his past, all of it was worth it if it meant he would end up here in this moment of time. He wouldn’t change anything if it meant he could stand with Hermione in his arms. He would spend the rest of his life making sure she was happy. 

“What do you say, Wife?” He says with his hand outstretched.

She takes his hand firmly with no hesitation. Her fingers fill in the gaps between his and Draco tugs her close.

.

.

.

He bows. 

She curtseys back.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>    
> 


End file.
